


defiance

by waldorph



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Mirror Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-04
Updated: 2010-04-04
Packaged: 2018-04-28 11:16:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5088638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waldorph/pseuds/waldorph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim Kirk built him an empire, and at the last moment Spock wrested it from him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	defiance

He never yields. He has to be broken each and every time; he has to be taken apart, and forced into submission.   
  
He is perfect.   
  
Bound to the bed; cuffed because with the slightest bit of slack he will become an assassin; if he manages it, he deserves to be emperor, they both know this.   
  
The leather ring around his cock keeps him hard; has kept him hard for hours already, before Spock even came back to his quarters. He'd been opened; put three other slaves in the hospital and two in the morgue before they'd managed to bind him down, shove the plug into him and lube him, ready for Spock.   
  
"Tell me," Spock murmurs, thrusting deep inside. "Let me hear you, Jim."   
  
"Do something worth talking about," Jim replies, and Spock feels something like liquid satisfaction pool low in his stomach.   
  
Jim's face is flushed, eyes overbright, but he is endlessly defiant; is never afraid.   
  
That is why he is Spock's favorite; why Spock will not allow his execution for the things he has done.   
  
Jim Kirk built him an empire, and at the last moment Spock wrested it from him.   
  
He leans forward, scrapes his teeth along the sharp line of Jim's jaw, drawing heavy red welts and then laving his tongue over the abused lower lip.   
  
And the Spock backhands him—such defiance cannot be encouraged, after all—and Jim's perfect lip splits. Spock runs his thumb along the break, smears Jim's cocksucking lips candy red. He once jaw Jim after he had been given a bloody nose, two dried tracks of blood from his nose to his chin, framing his mouth—he had never looked more enticing.   
  
Spock presses a kiss, a mockery of affection and tenderness, to his torn lip, biting it, and reels back when Jim headbutts him.   
  
Spock wraps a hand around Jim's throat and presses down; does not reserve his strength like he might do for Chekov. Jim knows what he is doing, and so does Spock, and neither of them will pretend to be anything less than what they are.   
  
He can feel Jim's heartbeat speed up; watches his chest begin to rise and fall rapidly, mouth fall open to heave in air—all of it futile.   
  
Spock maintains eye contact, easily subduing attempts to kick him off; to unbalance him.   
  
He fucks him through it all; hard, brutal thrusts with barely enough lubricant, and his cock bounces against his stomach, leaking pitifully, almost purpled it's so hard. Jim's straining so hard all his muscles are corded in perfect relief, struggling against Spock, against his restraints. It is futile, but Jim struggles.   
  
"You know what I want to hear," he says, as Jim's eyes begin to roll back in his head; watches him claw back to the surface of his consciousness and his body's instinct to live overrides his own instinct for defiance and Jim chokes out,   
  
"Please."  
  
Spock loosens his hold and Jim just heaves in gulps of air, desperate, eyes closed, and Spock bites down on his clavical, draws blood and licks it away, distracts Jim from the burn of his chest, and Jim moans, presses up into it.   
  
Wraps his legs around Spock, finally pushed over the edge; defeated.   
  
"Please, please, please," Jim chants every time Spock slams back into him, and Spock would bet a good deal that Jim isn't even aware of it; not anymore.   
  
Spock leans up, breaks his rhythm to kiss him, lick into Jim's mouth and suck his tongue, steal the breath he's managed to regain from him again: even Jim's ability to breathe is at Spock's pleasure, and someday Spock will manage to remind Jim of that without all of this (though he hopes not).   
  
Jim returns it, leaning up to follow Spock's mouth when he pulls back until he can't anymore, held in place.   
  
"Now," Spock says, and Jim falls back, shakes his head, and Spock angles so he brushes over Jim's prostate every thrust, and takes the ring off. " _Come now._ "   
  
Jim comes with a mangled scream, eyes clamped shut, lip splitting again and Spock watches him tremble and shudder apart, hips jerking against Spock, painting himself with white strips of come; getting it on his own face, in his eyelashes and over his lips, blood and come mixing.   
  
Spock pushes both into Jim's mouth, and Jim sucks them from his fingers, tongue swirling, teeth lightly grazing.   
  
"That was worth yelling about," Jim informs him hoarsely, wrecked.   
  
There is nothing Spock can say to that ("I'm glad"; "Quite"; "Thank you") that doesn't cede more power to Jim, and so he merely draws a hand from Jim's cheek down his side and rest possessively on his hip, thrusting in and coming, filling Jim with his come, adding to the load he left this morning.   
  
He rests his head against Jim's chest. He would that he could untie him; let Jim's clever hands touch him, but Jim, even now, is too dangerous. Slowly, shaking, he pulls out, reaches to the table and slides the plug back into his body.   
  
"Spock," Jim says, quiet, and Spock shakes his head.   
  
"Just for a moment," he says, finally, and closes his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Blanket Permission:** go ahead and translate, make podfic, rework the fic, or do whatever other transformative work you can think of. If the work is hosted on another site, drop me a comment or email and I'll put a link in the story notes!
> 
> [twitter:](https://twitter.com/waldorph) for unfiltered me || [tumblr:](http://waldorph.tumblr.com/) less about me, more about the pretty gifsets and art


End file.
